Chapter 69: Uniting the Commoners of the Nine Provinces, Shaking the Royal Court of One Family

"Rebellious subjects and treacherous sons, bewitching the hearts of the people."

Liu Hong let out a cold snort and said, "This Great Han is and shall always be the Great Han; it is the world of my Liu family. Rebellious subjects and treacherous sons like you are destined to stink for ten thousand years."

Zhang Jiao, however, said no more.

No matter what Liu Hong did, he could never see the millions upon millions of commoners, the millions upon millions of the masses in this world.

This Emperor of the Great Han had never once believed he was in the wrong.

The commoners and the masses had always struggled in the dirt; accepting their rule was all there was to it.

For thousands of years, it had always been this way.

As for their thoughts?

The Son of Heaven acts on behalf of Heaven to shepherd the people. Shepherd the people—what is being shepherded? It is cattle and sheep!

What thoughts could a herd of cattle and sheep have? And what need is there for them to have any thoughts?

Zhang Jiao could not persuade Liu Hong, just as in Liu Hong's eyes, Zhang Jiao had always been a rebellious subject and a treacherous son.

This was a difference in values.

Liu Hong, this Emperor of the Great Han, never believed he was in the wrong, just as Zhang Jiao had always known.

He was walking a path that was unprecedented and misunderstood.

On the battlefield, whether it was the Great Han garrison or the Yellow Turban Army, all held a firm belief in victory and fought with courage.

For the garrison of the Imperial Capital, behind them stood their monarch.

Above their heads was the four-hundred-year National Fortune of the Great Han, the nation to which they pledged their loyalty.

For the Yellow Turban Army, they sought to overthrow the corrupt Great Han; they sought to create an unprecedented ideal nation.

They had the ideals for which they fought their entire lives, and they, too, would not retreat.

Thus, an unprecedented slaughter began.

Zhang Jiao held the Nine-Section Staff in his left hand and raised the "Taiping Jing" high in his right, rising into the air step by step.

"Unite the commoners of the Nine Provinces, shake the royal court of one family."

He looked at the National Fortune Golden Dragon of the Great Han and said with a touch of solemnity, "Combine the will of the myriad people to sever the four-hundred-year National Fortune of the Great Han."

The masses, the commoners, the farmers, the mud-legged ones—they had many names.

Compared to the world, they were merely the underclass struggling in the mud.

The rulers even called them cattle and sheep, not counting them as human.

But at this moment, the will of the millions of masses of the Nine Provinces, the will of the millions of commoners, converged into that Blade of Public Opinion.

The Blade of Public Opinion of the Nine Provinces slashed toward the four-hundred-year National Fortune of the Great Han.

That was the anger of the commoners, that was the cry of the masses.

At this moment, countless people looked toward the direction of the Imperial Capital.

They felt the final National Fortune of the Great Han trembling.

"Is the Great Han about to perish? Is the four-hundred-year Great Han about to perish?"

Countless loyalists with hearts toward the Great Han were filled with righteous indignation.

And there were countless ambitious men who looked toward the Imperial Capital, their eyes erupting with an unprecedented light.

That was ambition.

When the Qin lost its deer, the world chased after it.

Now, if the Great Han were to perish, in whose hands would the future world be controlled?

Without a doubt, none of these people held the Yellow Turban Army led by Zhang Jiao in their eyes.

In their view, no matter what Zhang Jiao did, this group of mud-legged ones was merely making wedding clothes for them.

The sons of noble families had always been this way; in their arrogance, they had never placed the commoners in their eyes.

Even if a group of mud-legged ones overthrew the Great Han, how would they know how to govern the world?

Seeing Zhang Jiao carrying the will of the myriad people and actually wanting to sever the four-hundred-year Qi Luck of the Great Han, Liu Hong's expression changed.

He pointed the Son of Heaven Sword in his hand toward the sky and roared in anger, "My bones carry the bloodline of the Founding Emperor; I will never be the monarch of a fallen nation. I ask the ancestors to assist me."

At this instant, the Son of Heaven Sword and the Son of Heaven Imperial Seal were reviving, connecting with the four-hundred-year National Fortune, directly summoning the descent of the ancestors of the Great Han.

Han Gaozu Liu Bang, Han Five Emperors Liu Che, Guangwu Emperor Liu Xiu.

The ancestors of the Great Han descended into the world at this moment.

Liu Hong invoked the National Fortune of the Great Han, stirring the final traces of the various emperors of the Liu family, and Jieyin the ancestors to descend.

"I ask the ancestors to assist me, I ask the ancestors to protect my Great Han."

The descent of the Great Han ancestors was a scene too shocking; even the Yellow Turban Army had a moment of stagnation at this time.

After all, those who walked out from the National Fortune Golden Dragon were none other than—

The various emperors of the Han Empire.

Han Gaozu Liu Bang, Han Five Emperors Liu Che, Guangwu Emperor Liu Xiu.

Which one of them was not possessed of literary brilliance and martial virtue, shining across the four seas?

The various emperors of the Great Han appeared; their gazes looked toward Liu Hong with a sense of "hating that iron does not become steel," and then toward the Yellow Turban Army, their hearts filled with helplessness.

These emperors were merely the final imprints left behind by the ancestors of the Great Han, possessing little power left.

Even if Liu Hong summoned them out, they could hardly block this mighty, surging trend.

However, these people were, after all, the ancestors of the Great Han; they could not sit by and watch the Great Han perish.

The various emperors of the Great Han steered the National Fortune Golden Dragon of the Great Han and charged toward Zhang Jiao.

The only thing they could do now was to fight one last time for the Great Han.

As for the final result, even they themselves did not know.

On the battlefield, Zhang Jiao's Daoist robe fluttered without wind, and in an instant, he saw everything clearly.

These successive Emperors of the Great Han who had descended upon the battlefield were not the true successive Emperors descended in person.

They were merely the manifestation of the four hundred years of the Great Han's National Fortune, the final traces they left behind in the Great Han.

"Gentlemen, the Great Han is no longer the Great Han of yesterday, and the common people of this world are also not the common people of yesterday; this poor Daoist wants to let the common people of this world know that when hungry, one does not have to eat only tree bark."

With an unprecedented firmness, Zhang Jiao walked step by step toward the various Emperors of the Great Han, toward the four hundred years of the Great Han's National Fortune.

A low voice was uttered from his mouth.

"This poor Daoist Zhang Jiao, uniting the commoners of the Nine Provinces, bearing the wishes of all living beings, invites the Great Han to meet its death!"

Rumble.

Above Luoyang City, rolling True Thunder resounded; it was the fury of the ten thousand people, the rage of the commoners.

The thunder and fire transformed into a blade, once again slashing toward the four hundred years of the Great Han's National Fortune.

Even the successive monarchs of the Great Han were submerged beneath that vast and mighty public opinion.

The world is the master, the monarch is the guest.

Everything a monarch manages throughout their life is for the world.

At this moment, the ten thousand people of the world issued their own voice, vast and mighty, pushing forward to level everything.

With thunder and fire as the blade, the final National Fortune of the Great Han was severed.

The National Fortune Golden Dragon also let out bursts of mournful cries beneath that Blade of Public Opinion.

The Emperors of the Great Han had forgotten.

They forgot that it was the ten thousand people of the world who forged the prosperous age of the Great Han and created the might of the Great Han.

The monarchs abandoned their subjects, and at this moment, they finally faced the backlash of their subjects.

The four-hundred-year National Fortune Golden Dragon let out bursts of mournful cries, wanting to break free at the final moment.

Unfortunately, it was of no use.

The Great Han's National Fortune Golden Dragon dissipated directly above Luoyang City.

Countless people looked toward the direction above Luoyang City, stunned for a long time.

Until the final mournful cry of that four-hundred-year Great Han National Fortune Golden Dragon also dissipated.

A voice resounded in the hearts of countless people.

The Great Han has fallen!

The four-hundred-year Great Han has fallen!

Countless people were clutching their heads and weeping, countless people were beating their chests and stamping their feet.

The Great Han has fallen?

How could their Great Han have fallen?

(End of this chapter)